


Operation Princess

by willowcabins



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowcabins/pseuds/willowcabins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma gets unexpectedly captured by HYDRA.<br/>Also Known As: All My MCU Faves Love Jemma as Much As I Do</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Princess

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact I've had a really rough month and every time I was sad I worked on this fic so........................ (jazz hands) here is the most self-indulgent fic i have EVER WRITTEN. I wanted to include Pepper and Agent Carter, but there was no room and/or continuity didn't work so i am SO SAD

 

When Tripp woke up, head throbbing and black spots at the edge of his vision, he noticed her absence first. "May," he gasped into the comms. There was no answer. "May," he repeated; "Jemma is gone. They have Jemma." There was a stony silence; for a second, Tripp wondered if perhaps he lost his hearing temporarily thanks to the hit on the head.

“Are you injured?” She asked. Tripp ran a hand over his head. There was no blood.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

"Return to base," May instructed, her voice crisp and cold across the comms. "Debrief. I will handle this." Tripp nodded, and slowly got up. He was covered in sand and dust, and his throat was dry and itchy. He squinted into the sunlight; he was only out for about 20 minutes. It was still early; the desert heat hadn't reached unbearable levels yet. Tripp blinked three times, and the world focus around him again. He rubbed the back of his skull again; there was a definitely a bruise forming where he was hit in the back of the head with the butt of a gun. He was pretty sure it was just a concussion. He breathed out carefully, and counted to ten. The dizziness went away.

He got back into the truck and drove back to the jet.

 

By the time Tripp drove the truck back up the ramp of the jet, May, Bobbi, and Skye were already preparing to leave. "Lance is going to debrief you. Tell him everything you know," May told Tripp as she threw a duffle bag of weapons (or potentially explosives?) into the back of the jeep. "You two can brief us on the way." Tripp nodded. May slipped into the driver’s seat. Skye gave Tripp a tentative smile as she slipped past him to squeeze into the back of the jeep, laptop and a bunch of equipment in hand.

"Bring her back," Tripp murmured. Bobbi gave him a curt nod as she got into the passenger seat. May turns on the engine and revs it.

"You bet," Bobbi promised him, and then May backed the car out of the jet with mathematical precision. The car zoomed off, leaving a wake of dust clouds behind them. Lance, standing by the door of the lab, gestured that Tripp should follow him.

"Come," he instructed.

 

It was meant to be a simple recon. There were odd spikes of electric impulses out of an area in the middle of the desert. Jemma wanted to investigate it; Coulson thought it was probably something simple. But everyone was getting restless at the Playground, waiting for something to happen. So he decided this would be a training mission; May would lead, Jemma would science, and Skye would try and see whether or not she could access anything important from the servers that were all stored in the middle of Nevada.

But that was before a Hydra trap had been waiting to grab Jemma from the side of the highway.

Now she was caught, and everyone was on edge.

"Do we call Coulson?" Lance asked into the comms. There was a pause.

"Not yet," May decided. "I think I can handle this. Now, start talking to Tripp." Then she hung up.  Lance wasn't phased.

"Begin describing the vehicles they were operating," he commanded. Tripp took a deep breath, and began reciting.

 

"There is a base about nineteen minutes south of your current location according to Stark's satellite." Natasha was about 2,567 miles away, sitting in the Avengers Tower, and boiling with anger. "According to the satellite images I just received, there are nine vehicles matching Agent Triplet's description here."

"That sounds like a start," Bobbi admitted.

"Can you send us the specs?" May asked.

"I'm uploading them to Bobbi's tablet right now." The tablet pinged. Skye leaned forward, sticking her face between the two front seats.

"Can you give me access to the satellite?" She asked, thumping on her keyboard.

"Sure thing," Natasha humed. Three clicks later, and Skye was in. There was a commotion and a shot at Natasha's end of the line.

"You okay?" Bobbi asked, tilting her head at the board computer. There was a dry laugh.

"A security guard did not appreciate my presence in Stark's floor of the tower."

"Idiot," May hissed. A car approached them from behind. Skye looked at it, worried. They were driving on the highway in Nevada, which was generally reasonably empty, but this car had been following them for the last three minutes. Bobbi noticed her concern and gestured at it to catch May’s attention. May glanced into the rearview mirror and nodded curtly.

"It's Maria," she explained. "She's here to help." Skye gulped.

“Maria Hill?” She squeaked excitedly.

“Yes.”

"Good," Bobbi said dryly looking at the specs on her tablet, "because as far as I can tell from these specs, this is not going to be easy."

"If you wait three hours, I can be there to help you," Natasha pointed out. May shook her head.

"We are more than capable on our own, Nat," she replied sternly. There was a loud sigh.

“This is a functioning military base, May," Nat pointed out.

"Yeah, as far as I can tell," Skye hummed, looking at the specs. "There are over 400 different buildings in which Jemma could be kept."

"How do we even know for sure she's there?" Hill asked. Skye jumped at the strange voice through the board computer, but realised May must have just patched her in through the comms.

"I have pretty strong information, but we will need to confirm," Nat explained.

"Can we do the general spiel again?" Bobbi asked, glancing back at Skye.

"Not really," Maria cautioned, "you guys made security tighten up last time you tried that. Also, we don’t really have any white men handy..."

"Do you have a valid military pass?" May asked the phone. Maria laughed.

"Nope,” she dismissed.

May paused, and the  prompted: “Natasha?"

"I'm still rehabilitating my original identity," Nat explained apologetically.

"What are we going to do?" Skye asked, suddenly scared.

"I have a friend who can help," Nat hummed happily. Bobbi rolled her eyes.

"Is he close?" She demanded.

A crackling of radio on Nat’s end of the line. The words were dulled by stance and static noise, but Skye heard a cheerful voice claim 'ten minutes out' through the phone.

"Well, he's ten minutes out," Nat told them happily. "You're approaching the vicinity of the pace now. Switch to secure line 7."

"Who is her friend?" Skye whispered to May. Bobbi turned around and smirked.

"Do you know that guy called Falcon?"

"Falcon? The dude who helped Captain America during the fall of SHIELD?"

"Yup!"

"Jemma saved his life once," May said calmly.

"When?" Skye asked, incredulous.

"She gets around," May replied, shrugging. Bobbi's lips thinned and she nodded.

"She's a very special person."

 

Lance slammed on the mute button. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Lance demanded, staring at Tripp. “She knows an Avenger? She saved an Avenger’s life? What is it with that girl?!?!?!” he hissed at Tripp. Tripp shot him a glare and turned the speakers back on.

"Guys, if you friend has a military ID the I might have a plan." Tripp announced. The exit for the base came into view, and May pressed on the brakes lightly.

"Go," she commanded.

 

Hawthrone Military base is one of the biggest bases in the us. It is in the middle of the Nevada desert, spread out over nearly 150 acres, and has over 400 buildings. It is well known as a weapons testing facility, and thus there is a lot of high level clearance requirements to access certain areas of the base. Hence, there was little surprise when General Talbot ordered another four buildings to be cleared off for high level clearance agents only.

This was where Jemma Simmons was currently sitting, opposite Agent 25, a well dressed ex-shield agent. Jemma was looking at her searchingly as the woman frowned stoically at her.

"Jemma," she said calmly, "you are all alone here. I think you should tell me all you know about the new base of operations.

"Its funny that you think I'm alone," Jemma replied happily, shifting against the rope binding her wrists together.

"Are you not alone?" Agent 25 quirked an eyebrow

Jemma smirked. "I have friends. Do you have friends, Agent 25?"

"You don't get to ask the questions here, Jemma," she added Jemma's name with a sneer, as if that name gave her power.

"Please, call me Doctor Simmons." Jemma replied cooly. "Even when I was in Hyrda I outranked you." Agent 25 scoffed.

"I don't think thats true," she said.

"You don't think? Does that mean you don't know, Agent 25?" Agent 25 kicked back her chair and stood over Jemma threateningly.

"You don't get to ask the questions," she hissed. Jemma tilted her head.

"I don't?" Agent 25 slapped her. Hard. Jemma gasped, and then flexed her jaw experimentally. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, Agent 25," she murmured. Agent 25 was surprised that this woman could be this terrifying. She looked so small.

 

"I hope you know this is a dumb plan," Sam snapped at the comm. He and Skye were sitting in Maria's car, slowing down in front of the gatehouse of the base.

"Relax, Sam. You're a celebrity!"

"That doesn't give me the right to waltz into military bases."

"Just stick to Skye's backstory."

"Skye's well crafted backstory," Skye corrected. Sam glanced at her; she was worrying her lip. The confidence in her voice was a false bravado. Sam carefully touched Skye's shoulder.

"Don't worry," he promised quietly. "We'll get her back." The stopped in front of the bar. A soldier approached the window. Sam rolled it down with a ready, friendly smile.

"ID?" The soldier asked casually. Sam grinned and handed him his military card. He looked down at the picture, and then at Sam, and the did a double take.

"Oh!" The young officer started. "You're Falcon!"

"The one and only," Sam agreed with a grin. The guy smiled at Sam.

"Man, my daughter loves you. She's already planning her entrance into the air force because of you." The man chuckled and passed Sam's ID back. "Go to reception; its about two miles down this road."

"Do I have to sign in?"

"Oh no, its just my buddy Liam works there and he loves you to bits. It would really cut him up if I met you and he didn't." Sam chuckled.

"Well, we wouldn't want that," he agreed cheerfully. The bar raised. They drove through.

"We're in," Skye murmured.

"Go plant your virus in the comms at reception then. It would seem you even have a good reason to go there," Hill commanded. Skye swallowed, and nodded.

 

"I really hate barbed wire," Bobbi sighed as she tried to asses the damage the wire had done to her coat. May jumped down next to her from the nine foot gate, landing in a poised crouch.

"They don't make security gates for your pleasure," she commented cliply. Bobbi smirked and nodded silently, looking ahead. There was another gate, and then a wall with barbed wire at the top. And then they were in. She pulled a face, and glanced at the watchtowers. There were four watch towers in their line of sight. None of them had noticed them yet. "How are we doing on time?" May asked into the comms.

"You have three minutes until the next patrol, so I suggest you get climbing," Hill chirped back. Bobbi sighed, and started clawing her way up the gate. She vaulted over the edge. May followed. They looked up at the tower. May pulled out a gun and shot it at the window; the listening device was planted.

"Do we have ears?" May asked. There was a moment in which Hill fiddled with the switches, and then a quiet whispering became audible through all their comms.

"We have ears," Maria confirmed. "Alpha Team, check in."

 

"Alpha team approaching reception area," Skye announced. "Which reminds me, did any of you see the name of our operation?"

"You named the operation?" Hill did not sound pleased.

"Yes!" Skye said. "It needed a name. All operations need a name."

"This isn't actually an operation," Bobbi pointed out. "A military operation is the coordinated military actions of a state in response to a developing situation. This is not a coordinated attack."

"But it is in response to a developing situation," Skye argued, as Sam held the door open for her and she walked into the reception area.

"And not a joke," May snapped. It silenced the conversation. Skye bit her lip, and walked up to the desk with Sam. Sam grinned at the receptionist, a small private with a nice mop of brown hair.

"Hello," he hummed happily. "My name is Sam and I am here to see Liam."

"Liam?" The boy tilted his head, "why?" He asked. Skye leaned forward on the counter and sighed.

"He's the Falcon," she explained, rolling her eyes and blowing a bubble with her chewing gum in exaggerated and theatrical boredom.

"The Falcon?" The young private repeated, eyes lightening up. "The guy who worked with Captain America?" Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'm pretty great on my own too," he amended with a grin. The boy blushed, and looked down at his keyboard.

"I'll get Liam," he murmured. Sam watched him go with a smirk, leaning against the counter. Skye used his back as a shield as she put her USB drive into the main computer.

"Count to ten," she instructed in a hoarse whisper.

"Why?" Sam asked, glancing back at her in confusion.

"Its' how long the software takes to upload."

"Man, has anyone ever told you that you are like a mini-Nat?" Skye blew another bubble at him and extracted the usb.

"I try," she said, pushing her hair back flippantly (secretly, she was fangirling inside. A mini-Nat. That was the best compliment she had ever recieved.)

"I'm in," Hill murmured into the comms as Skye’s virus gave her access to the video feeds. “we have eyes. Now, keep your boys distracted while I figure out where Jemma is being held."

"We're gonna have no problem with that," Skye murmured. "Sam has got quite a fan club."

Sam turned around. A collection of about twenty soldier were all gazing at him with blatant admiration. Skye leaned against the wall, and gestured for him to go.

"Go, meet your fans. I'll just look pretty," she promised him. He grinned, and walked towards the crowd.

"Leadies and Gentlemen," he greeted them, shaking each of their hands individually. "Its such a pleasure to meet you all." Skye smiled indulgently.

 

"I don't know what I'm looking for," Hill muttered, sorting through files.

"Any recent changes in protocol?" Bobbi asked as she pressed her thighs around a young soldiers neck. He fainted. She nodded; May walked forward.

"There have been some changes in clearance levels for several different facilities."

"Are they close to each other?"

"Not really."

"Okay then let's check them out one by one. Try the furthest away from the reception area."

"That's incredibly far. You do know that 150 acres is roughly 600,000 m2, right?"

"Just give us the coordinates. We'll get there," May snapped.

Hill gave them the coordinates.

 

The background noise from the watchtower was low key chatter: a young man complaining about his girlfriend, his female friend complaining about his "sexist bullshit;" the usual chatter that Hill was attuned to ignoring. Certain words immediately made her alert though: "hostiles" or "attack" or "hydra," for example.

There was the sound of a door opening, and then a hush across the room. "Someone important," Hill muttered. She adjusted the dials, trying to hone in on the voice. The device clicked, and the voice came in clearly. "There is an important military advisor coming on site this afternoon," the loud voice boomed. Hill tilted her head. This has nothing to do with them; she made to turn the voice recording down again, when the man said something else. "His name is Daniel Whitehall."

One of the heads of Hydra.

"His helicopter is due to land in an hour and fifteen minutes," the voice continued, oblivious to Hill's dawning realisation and fear. "I want a welcoming commitee ready and the airspace cleared...."

Hill stopped listening. This was no coincidence. Daniel Whitehall was coming here. He was here for Jemma. Hill sighed and turned her comms back on.

"I have bad news," she announced quietly. "Daniel Whitehall is due to arrive in an hour."

"That's not a coincidence," May hissed.

"It means we're on a more pressing clock now," Hill agreed. Two quick shots echoed across the earpiece.

"It means we're on a whole nother level of attack," Bobbi growled.

 

Back on the jet, Lance grips Tripp's arm.

"That's not good," he whispers urgently.

"Daniel Whitehall? You don't say," Tripp said sarcastically, shaking off Lance's hand.

"No, I mean Bobbi."

"What?"

"When Bobbi gets like that -"

"Like what?"

"She just ICED two guards!"

"She had to!"

"No, you don't understand. Bobbi didn't use her stick. She used the gun. That's when things start to turn ugly."

"Ugly? May has her back -"

"It doesn't matter who has her back, when Bobbi gets protective, Bobbi gets protective."

"Stressing the same word twice really doesn't help me here, Hunter."

"Fine, give me the comms," he snaps, grabbing them. "Hill?" He demanded.

"Yes?" She asked, patiently.

"I have some bad news about Bobbi."

"About me?" Bobbi's voice asked, and there was another shot. Lance winced, as if his ex-wife was near him and physically shooting at him, but continued bravely.

"You made Bobbi angry," Lance explained.

"She's not the Hulk," Hill pointed out.

"Yeah, she's worse," Hunter muttered.

"This is not the time," May snapped. Tripp pushed Lance away from the microphone.

"What he means," Tripp hastily corrected him, "is that he urges you to temper your anger, Bobbi."

"Daniel Whitehall is on his way and Hydra has Jemma." Another gun shot. "No fucking way."

 

"Don't want to interrupt or anything," Skye murmured as she and Sam were lead out of the reception area, "but this military base just registered an attack."

"An attack?"

"Two assailants from the west."

"That would be you two," Sam added pointedly. Bobbi and May looked at each other.

"I suppose cautions for silence have be blown into the wind."

"How fast can you get us a location, Skye?"

"Two minutes."

"Make it one.”

 

There was an explosion outside. Agent 25 didn't blink, but Jemma smiled. Agent 25 sneered at Jemma's smile.

"This is a military base," she said scornfully. "That was simple weapon's testing. It wasn't your friends."

"I never said it was," Jemma agreed. Agent 25's lips thinned and she frowned.

"You are entirely too optimistic," she decided. Jemma nodded. "That's why I called Daniel Whitehall," the woman added. "I thought it might help you."

Jemma paled.

One of the head's of Hydra, the man who knew her name, was coming to get her. She gulped.

Agent 25 smiled maliciously. It seems that her words had the desires effect on her subject. She bared her teeth when she smiled, and they looked frighteningly white. Jemma took a deep, steadying breath. She remembered Skye, and May, and Bobbi. They would save her. Tripp and Lance and Fitz and even Mack wouldn't leave her here. Coulson wouldn't allow that. Jemma was worth something to them, right?

"In case you still have a sliver of hope," Agent 25 started, her voice high and sing-songy, "I want to remind you that you are not worth enough."

"Enough?"

"You are barely worth a second glance, Jemma Simmons. You think you're so irreplaceable, but we both know that you are a luxury, and an easily replaceable one. You are here because you don't deserve better. You're here because your friends, understandably, don't think you're the most important part of their lives, and you have to reconcile yourself with that fact."

The word Fact reverberated in Jemma's head. She gritted her teeth, and carefully remembered. A "fact" is a statement that is necessarily true. Gravity, for example, is a scientific fact. One of Jemma's favorite scientific facts, actually. She liked the stability and predictability of it all. A fact has to be proven, over and over again, in different circumstances, until it is seen as such. Jemma is a person. This is a fact.

Bobbi is her friend. May is her friend. Skye is her friend. These are also facts.

Friends don't leave people. This is also a fact.

Jemma closed her eyes, for a calming moment there was silence and darkness, in which she took a deep breath.

"You're all alone," Agent 25 continued, but Jemma just looks passed her. Her words had lost their sting; Jemma no longer feared them. She was Jemma Simmons, and she was important. She may not be important to Shield, as an organisation, but she was important to Bobbi Morse and Skye and Melinda May. She was important to Leo Fitz and Antoine Tripplet and even Lance Hunter. She was not going to die on her own. She was better than this, and she knew it.

She looked up at Agent 25 slowly.

"Stop talking," she said quietly. and it almost sounds like a threat. Agent 25 stared at her, mouth open in surprise.  She hadn’t been prepared for this.

 

“We have a location," Bobbi murmured, looking down as her watch blinked. "We need to commandeer a car."

"How far is it?"

"Two miles west."

"We can run that."

"You also only have twnty three minutes until Whitehall arrives," Hill chimed in. May raised an eyebrow.

"Better run fast then," she decided. Bobbi sighed, slid her staves into her belt and sprinted after May. If there was anyone who could beat the four minute mile because her friend was in danger, it would be Melinda May. Bobbi gritted her teeth and ran faster.

 

"We're so sorry about this," the soldiers apologised sheepishly, "it's probably nothing, Falcon, sir, but you know security protocol."

"You are doing the right thing, soldier. Don't worry about me," Sam chuckled, clapping the young private on the back. "It's a soldier's duty to keep his base safe and free of oppression."

"Free of oppression?" The private repeated, laughing, slightly confused. "What do you mean?" Sam shrugged.

"I just meant," he said, gesturing up in the air. "Hydra and all that stuff, you know?"

"I thought Hydra fell with Shield?" The soldier asked. Sam shrugged.

"Evil is hard to kill, right Skye?" Skye nodded avidly.

"Evil is like a bad smell." she agreed. "Impossible to get rid of."

"Oh." The private seemed entirely confused by them. Sam just grinned and patted him on the back. "Anyway," he said. "We're off now. Good luck. Don't forget that if you need me, you can always call me." The soldier nodded, dumbfounded . Skye rolled her eyes.

"Stop flirting and get in the car," she said jokingly. The soldier blushed bright red, but Sam just gave him an easy smile and slipped into the car.

"Thanks for ruining my game," he mumbled at Skye. Skye smirked at him.

"Sorry to try and encourage your attention back on the mission," Hill's voice cut through the car,  "but you have a small British scientist to save."

"What else can we do?"

"Leave now, but be prepared. Bobbi and May might need you as backup."

 

Bobbi and May didn't need any backup, though Bobbi really really wished she could have had Sam's car right now. She was heaving with almost disgusting exhaustion as they arrived in front of the correct weapons storage warehouse within 9 minutes and 45 seconds. "Nearly a four minute mile," Bobbi heaved. May gave her a derisive look, and knocked out the guard who just came around the corner of the warehouse, clearly doing rounds. May looked down at him and sneered.

"Hydra," she muttered. Bobbi looked at his unconscious body.

"How could you tell?" She asked, surprised.

"I've fought him before," May explained casually. She looked at the warehouse. "How many operatives do you think are in there?" She asked Hill.

"Thanks to Nat's hacking of the satellite, I have infrared imaging of the warehouse."

"Bad news?" Bobbi guessed.

"There are roughly thirty hydra operatives in there."

"Where is Jemma?"

"In the west corner."

"Is she under heavy guard?"

"Yup. You have to get through every single one of those operatives to get to her."

"Are they all on the ground?"

"No, four snipers in the rafters." Bobbi sighed.

"Falcon?" she called into the mouthpiece. "Now it would be really great if you showed up."

"Isn't your ex who you need for this?" Sam asked, though Bobbi could hear him stopping the car in the background.

"Lance?" She asked, incredulously.

"No," Sam amended quickly. "Clint!"

"Oh." Bobbi shrugged. "I prefer you."

"Wow, thanks."

"Don't take that the wrong way. I meant on rescue missions." May gave Bobbi and incredulous look.

"We have eleven and a half minutes," she pointed out derisively. "Stop talking and start climbing." Bobbi laughed.

"Fine," she decided and began climbing up the side of the beginning.

"Falcon's in the air," Skye announced across the comms.

"One minutes and counting," Hill warned. May smiled, and smashed open the doors of the warehouse.

 

Hydra had organised its men in such a way that only about nine men were alerted when the door opened. Each man had to run from a different direction: their posts had been spread out to make sure all entrance ways had at least one guard, but it made May's task a lot easier. She was able to overwhelm single men one by one, and although one of the snipers grazed her shoulder (the cut burned, but May ignored it), she was relieved. It was almost routine now, disarming, elbowing, smashing in the face, and then using the men's useless bodies as shields and weapons. She snapped a man's wrist with an easy upwards jerk and then slammed her boot into his face. He crumbled in front of her. A figure crashed through the ceiling and, hovering over the shelves that created a labyrinth, started shooting. The last sniper fell. Bobbi jumped down from the rafters, staves out and shining.

"Jemma, we've come for you," she shouted through the warehouse, and her voice boomed.

 

Agent 25's head snapped up at that call. The sounds of muffled bullets and snipers had not phased her.

"That's the sound of your friends dying," she had hummed happily. Jemma bit her lip anxiously, but ignored the Agent's words. Jemma knew better: the lack of responding gunfire was probably because May and Bobbi were leading the group, and both of them found gunfire to be clumsy and useless in their profession. Jemma tilted her head: she always found it incredibly brave of both of them to be so derisive about such a cowardly weapon. There was a smash, and suddenly there was an angelic figure hanging from the ceiling. Jemma laughed aloud as Agent 25 paled.

"That's an Avenger," Agent 25 hissed into her comm. “What is an avenger doing here?”

"I have friends in high places?" Jemma offered with a smirk. Agent 25 growled and made to slap Jemma, but Jemma ducked her head and the hand missed, glancing off the top of her head. Jemma gritted her teeth. She couldn't break this rope or the chair by herself (she remembered that time Nat had told her about how she had let herself be interrogated by the enemy in order to gain more information), but she could do this slight subversion. Agent 25 growled and yanked Jemma's face up by grabbing her chin. The Agent's nails dug into Jemma's flesh, but before she could pull back her fist to punch, one of Bobbi's battle staves slammed into her temple with acute accuracy. She dropped to the floor next to the silver dull stave.

"Bobbi," Jemma gasped as Bobbi emerged from between two shelves. Bobbi grinned at her as she bent down to pick up her stave.

“Hey Jemma,” she said cheerfully, pushing her hair out of her face. “Been waiting long?” And bit her lip and couldn't help herself: she began crying. Bobbi laughed softly and crouched down between Jemma’s knees. She carefully cupped Jemma’s cheek and wiped away her tears with her thumb.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “We’re here. We saved you.” Jemma leaned into the touch and looked down into Bobbi’s earnest eyes. She smiled weakly.

“You came for me,” she whispered hoarsely. Bobbi smirked.

“Of course we did,” she promised, brushing a curl of hair out of Jemma’s eye. “You’re the most popular girl in SHIELD.”

 

"Is she safe? Do you have her?" There was a panicky edge to Skye's voice that rang all over their comms.

"I have her," Bobbi assured her calmly as she carefully undid the knots around Jemma's wrist. "Jemma is safe."

"Daniel Whitehall's helicopter is approaching," Maria Hill disagreed, "so unless you can get out in under 30 seconds, no one's safe."

"Cheerful," May commented, offering Jemma a hand as Bobbi sliced through the restraints on Jemma's leg. Jemma accepted with a weak smile.

"What's cheerful?" she asked, looking between them slightly confused.

"Will explain in a second," Bobbi said, waving down Sam. Sam, with one giant wave of his metallic wing, swooped down and picked up Jemma.

"Oh!" Jemma squeaked and looked up. "Oh, hi Sam," she said cheerfully. He nodded at her and concentrated on gaining height again. "Wait, how are you two getting out?" Jemma called down. May gave Jemma a look. Jemma blushed.

"Skye is waiting for you two miles out," Bobbi told them and nodded at May. "Shall we?" May nodded. As the two women sprinted towards the exit, Sam took off, and Jemma felt the familiar lurch in her stomach as they became airborne, soaring through the hole in the roof of the warehouse.

  
  
  



End file.
